


Two pink stripes

by iriswesttt



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-22 20:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6093094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iriswesttt/pseuds/iriswesttt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris thinks she might be pregnant. Or rather she's kind of sure of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two pink stripes

Iris was sitting on their bed, — or rather the bed they were sharing: they were on vacation and the STAR Labs team had decided to spend the weekend skiing — her mind seemed to be going on a loop and she started resenting the fact that Barry was fast asleep by her side. He moved slightly, placing his arm over her legs and burying his nose on her hip. Maybe, in a different mood she would have found it cute, his face half under the covers and his lips slightly parted, not right now;

“Barry! Barry! Wake up! I need you to wake up.”

He turned over a little, looking up at her, and to contain the urge to slap him awake she tried focusing on how nice his hair always looked when he was waking up, mushed down and messy, and how his eyes full of sleep hadn’t always been a bed-sight, and how glad she was they were now, but none of it worked as he asked her;

“What? What time is it?”

And she still wanted to slap him awake.

“7:30.”

“Iris, we’re on vacation. I wanna sleep”, he mumbled, turning to the other side and she grabbed the covers, pulling it all to her and leaving his bare ass hanging in the cold thin air of the barely heated room of their cabin.

“Barry!”

“What?”

He fumbled for the covers back and she knew he was offended by it, which lightened her mood slightly. The offence, and the naked ass. He had a small butt, but it was nice when it was bare, smooth like baby skin and it had a constellation of moles all over it, and she usually liked tracing them and grabbing and biting.  _Focus, Iris_!

“Barry! Look at me.”

“Ok, what’s wrong?”

“I haven’t slept all night.”

His expression softened and she could kiss him right about now, for actually caring and worrying about the smallest of things, for always asking how she had slept and kissing her softly on her temple when he had to leave bed earlier, for the way he held her hand and kissed her lips and for the way his breath always felt tingly and teasingly between her legs. Now she was regretting having waked him up so hastily.

“Why?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

He pulled the covers back and said;

“No, you’re not.”

And maybe it was just his bare butt cheeks brightening her mood because she was surpassing anger to reach a state that should be very worrisome for his safety. But she managed to control her tone and instead of the scream she wanted to utter she retorted;

“Oh, ok then, that is decided. You’ve decided.”

Barry sat up by her side, rubbing her arm in a calmingly manner but she was not about to be patronised. She had reached conclusion around 4 in the morning, growing surer and surer by the second. He tried to argue, though, even with her making him her impassive, unimpressionable, face;

“Iris, you’re on the pill. We always use condoms.”

“Not always, we don’t. I stopped to count, we had sex 12 times last week, 5 without condoms. This just in the last 7 days.”

He smiled a little dirty at her, same way he always did when he was teasing her, just about to actually lick it and suck it, and she knew what kind of content would fill his next input;

“You know that you can’t get pregnant from me eating you, right?”

She could kick him. She could kick herself for knowing him so well. He laughed at his own joke and she let him know;

“This isn’t funny! Shower sex, we don’t use condoms on that, that day we fucked on STAR Labs, not using condoms…” — she could sense him counting them, trying to make sure she had the numbers right — “Stop counting! I already did! I’m obviously not counting the times I’ve blown you or —”  _ARGH!_  Did he actually think this was a fucking joke?!

“Ok, I get your point, but you’re on the pill. You take it religiously.”

“I’m not feeling right this week. I’ve been feeling 15 years old all week and that level of hormonal imbalance is not healthy.”

“You’re being silly.”

_Dangerous word choice, Bartholomew Allen. Very dangerous indeed._

“Yesterday you asked me what was up with me”, she pointed out, trying to get him to focus, and understand she was right; “and I hadn’t noticed, but that got me thinking and I’ve been bitchy all week.”

“I know.”

_Deep breaths, Iris, just keep taking deep breaths._

“I yelled at my intern. I actually yelled at him. And yesterday I cried for like 45 minutes because Caitlin was a little incentive about grandma Esther’s mac and cheese recipe.”

His face softened again as he asked;

“When did you cry yesterday?”

“In the shower.”

His hand reached out for hers and Iris allowed it. 

“Ok. Are you feeling anything else?”

“Other than crazy, no.”

“I think it might be just your pill.”

To her surprise he laid down back in bed. Out of all of the ways she expected Barry to react to that piece of information going back to sleep was not one of them;

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I need at least another 45 minutes.”

She pulled the covers off of him again, kicking him in the legs, out of the bed;  

“And I need you to go pick me a fucking test.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now!  _Now_! Go! And DON’T” — she grabbed him by the arm before he could completely leave the bed — “fucking tell anyone anything.”

“Ok! I’m going.”

Sometimes it did pay to have a speedster husband for beyond the whole vibration thing: he was back in a matter of seconds with three different tests, saying she could choose between them because he couldn’t, and complaining about how expensive those things were. Then she was the one off the bed and when he offered to stay with her while she took the test she asked;

“Why? I’m not pregnant, I’m just being silly.”

And he mumbled he would make coffee then.

 

Three minutes afterwards Iris kept looking from the box’s instructions to the two pink stripes. Intuition was one thing, having confirmation right in front of her was another. She wished she had asked Barry to stay. It took her another full minute before she could move again, and left their room to find him, hoping he could make more sense out of it than she was able to, the test stick and the box on the nightstand. 

As if the whole thing wasn’t difficult enough to make matters worse she could hear Caitlin and Ronnie’s voice in the kitchen, already up. She stood by the door frame and said; 

“Barry! Good morning guys. Barry?”, gesturing him to follow her, perhaps with more urgency than needed since it would probably raise questions later on. But he did follow. His tone muted when he asked her;

“What?”, closing their bedroom door behind them, and she would have to tell him. She couldn’t properly form the words though, so she just said;

“It’s positive.”

“Are you sure?”, he asked, already picking up the test and the box, seemingly hypnotise by it, like she had been a moment ago;

“Yeah, I’m sure. I still can read a box instruction. There it is, two fucking pink stripes.”

“You’re pregnant.”

Hearing the words as an absolute made her dizzy, and increasingly sick;

“Oh, god! I’m gonna be sick.”

And Barry was right behind her, holding her hair and rubbing a calming hand up and down her spine. He kept absolutely quiet, probably sharing her shock, only speaking again once she sat down back in bed, to ask if she wanted something to eat, to which her response was  _nope! puke!_ , and without any additional comments he left for a couple of minutes to return holding a tea mug and a toast, saying;

“Ginger, lemon and honey. Please try to eat the toast too? It will make you feel better.”

The tea she could take but looking at the toast was not doing her any good so she pushed the plate away from her. He sat by her side again, petting her hair, his fingers dancing through her scalp as she drank in silence, until he asked; 

“Morning sickness?”

“I think it was just panic.”

Once she finished the tea — the one thing Barry had always known how to make perfectly right, and she never even liked tea, only his — she laid back in bed, letting it sink in. Barry mirrored her, brushing her hair off her face, and asked; 

“Are you still panicking?”

“I’m pregnant”, he offered her a big grin in response so she asked; “You’re smiling. Why are you smiling?”

“I’m fucking happy.”

“Are you?”

He nodded, kissing her, softly, on the lips, invitingly, trying to get her to part hers to him;

“Don’t kiss me, I taste like vomit.”

He beamed at her even bigger, something shinning in his eyes, like she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and she had look at the mirror not a full ten minutes ago, so she knew for a fact it wasn’t so, as he said;

“You taste like ginger, actually.”

She laughed at that.

“And you taste like coffee”, and then, as realisation hit her; “Oh, god, I can’t give up coffee. I won’t survive for nine months without coffee.”

He laughed back into her lips, kissing her again, his hand on her waist;

“I think coffee might be negotiable.”

“I’m not drinking decaf. That shit isn’t coffee.”

He pulled her bottom lip between his, sucking on it for a bit before saying;

“I know perfectly well how you feel about decaf.”

His hands jump to her stomach, cradling her belly, travelling down to where  _it_ should be, warming it, and she shook her head, saying; 

“It’s just a bunch o cells, Barry, there’s nothing to feel.”

“I know. There’s gonna be a baby though. You are going to be huge”, he informed her, the pad of his fingers caressing her under her slip.

“And you are looking forward to that?”

“I’ve never felt a pregnant belly before, so, yeah. I’m also looking forward to the boobs”, he answered her. “Not that I don’t like your boobs now”, he hurried to add.

He tugged her slip up, exposing her skin to him, and kissed his way down her body, grazing lightly on her nipples, hard with the cold, then licking under her boobs and blowing it, and Iris laughed at the sensation before he stopped at her belly, lowering her knickers, and kissing just above her hips, softly, reverently, and saying;

“I’m also looking forward to our baby. A tiny little human that we’ve made.”

“A tiny little meta-human.”

He sat up hastily to that, and she could feel him slipping into panicking mode as he rambled;

“Oh god. Oh, god! I’m so stupid. I completely forgot the reason why you couldn’t get pregnant! I’m all happy about it when— oh, god — there’s a reason to why we used condoms every damn time —”

“More like 50% of the time”, she corrected him, but he never actually listened to her, he just kept going;

“you are — what if — there’s too many risks — maybe we should tell Caitlin.”

She was the one to sit up at that;

“No! No! We’re not telling anyone until the end of the first trimester. And I’m NOT having Caitlin doing my prenatal.”  

“What do you suggest then?”

“Dr. Greene?” she offered. She didn’t want to have to change doctors, she liked her own doctor, but she wasn’t very versed on meta-human’s pregnancy, and the alternative was Caitlin, and people shouldn’t be friends with their physicians.

“That meta-human doctor you interviewed for your article two months ago?”

“Yeah, she is nice, and an actual ob/gyn, and a meta-human. You said her research was good and I would rather not having Caitlin taking blood samples out of me every twenty minutes and stressing me out for nine months. I need someone calming.”

He studied her intently, panic still in his eyes.

“And would you calm down, please? I can’t have you panicking. I’m the only one allowed to panic”, she added. 

He nodded to her, taking a deep breath, saying;

“Ok. Ok. Yeah, it will be fine. We would never know until we’ve tried anyway. Ok.”, more to himself than to her, then he asked; “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. But let me tell you, this hormone thing is no joke”, he pulled her over his lap, kissing her temple and nuzzling on the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry for being an asshole,” she apologised.

“Hey, you’re pregnant, you’ve earned being an asshole.” He looked her in the eyes and smiled softly; “You weren’t an asshole. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Are you gonna be this easy for nine months?”

“I might be even easier.”

She laughed, pulling him down, over her, enjoying his warmth, and she was definitively not panicking anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr iriswestthings


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